Witches for Hire (Odd Jobs #1)(40)
Reaching into his jacket, Jeremy took out napkins. He offered one to Trey, and they both wiped the blood from their hands. Jeremy slid one of the teacher’s notebooks and a pen in front of him and started writing. A single strong glance, and the crumpled napkins burned to ashes.
“I saw my dad’s receipt. Why are you guys so cheap even though you’re powerful?”
“It’s called cutting into an oversaturated market.” Jeremy ripped out the page and folded it. Before he handed it to Trey, he said, “Go to this place, and when you see someone in charge, say these words: an angel sent me.”
Trey blinked as if he believed he was being pranked. “I get the keys to the kingdom by saying something that stupid?”
Jeremy started retracting the hand with the note farther away.
“I’m sorry! It sounds totally cool and shit.”
Jeremy flicked the paper to him. “Bloody right it does.”
Trey stared at the paper, and then looked at Jeremy. “Does your boss know him too?”
“No, which is why you won’t speak his name out loud until we leave.”
“Who are you?”
“A low-rent witch with high-level contacts.”
“WHAT DID you say to him?” Clive asked Jeremy as they escaped football traffic. Trey had previously only shown respect to his father, but when they left, he apologized profusely and even raised his hat so that his whole face showed. It was a dramatic change considering Jeremy’s disastrous run-ins with other clients.
Clive’s phone rang, interrupting Jeremy before he could answer. “Hello?”
“Witches for Hire?” a man’s panicked voice asked.
“Yes.”
“If the faces on fake money that I was using for totally board game purposes come to life and start chanting in a weird language, is that bad?”
Clive’s eyes closed in irritation. Only money forgers go through that much trouble for fake money. He scratched his head. Should I inform the Council or do the job?
“I’m pretty sure I can’t get out of my house.”
What god was this fool praying to when he transformed objects into money? This should be lesson enough about using indecent practices, and I did leave my work phone on. Clive nodded even though the other man couldn’t see him. “I’ll be right over. Try to stay exactly as you are until I arrive.”
“Thanks and hurry.” Sounds of paper fluttering came through the phone. “I think they’re multiplying faster.”
After calming the client down enough to give them his address, Clive sighed as he ended the call. “Any volunteers for another job tonight?”
Edarra clapped. “The last job got me pumped up, so count me in.”
Simone made a slashing motion with her hand across her throat. “Count me out. I’ve clocked in all the overtime I need.”
“Throw my vote in with Simone’s,” Jeremy piped in.
Clive looked at his watch. Everyone kept telling him he shouldn’t have bothered buying one, but he liked the gadget. “Come in anytime before noon tomorrow, and you’ll get a full day’s wages.”
“You are my favoritest boss!” Simone declared.
“Ehhhh, so-so,” said Jeremy, who must have an allergy to saying nice things about him.
When Edarra pulled her Mazda into their office’s dim parking lot, which received light from a lone street lamp on their block, she pointed her thumb at the window. “Passengers disembark or stay seated for our next destination.”
Jeremy stepped out of the car, crushing fallen branches left over from a storm they had missed. Simone joined him, and after they were safely in their cars with the engines running, Edarra returned them to the road, where hopefully traffic had lessened so they could reach their next customer in time.
The price would-be criminals pay for us to clean up their mess instead of confessing their sins to the Council, Clive thought.
JEREMY’S CAR windows fogged from the cold. Fifteen more minutes and his feet could cuddle into the warmth of his velvet slippers. A cup of cocoa as he relaxed after that onslaught of teenage noise beckoned to his tired mind just as sweetly. As if his thoughts summoned a contrarian god to spoil his plans, the damn phone rang in through the radio. His father’s number appeared on the small screen, so he accepted the call.
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“I have a flight to Washington because my fellow senator from Alabama is being a first-class son of a bitch. The Great Mother chose this coincidentally bad time to set up an emergency meeting with me.” The call to board the DC plane blared into the car, and Jeremy flinched away from the noise. “She’s making me choose between witches and mortals, or….”
“I’ll meet her as a proxy.”
“This is—no, I don’t need help with my bag. I don’t look that old.” Senator Ragsdale muttered the last to someone speaking in the background. “I think you’re her true goal, and she knows you’ll show if it’s in my stead. I don’t care how she’ll retaliate—if you don’t want to do it, I’ll turn her down.”
Jeremy swerved his car into a U-turn. Wally World, as his dad called it, was open twenty-four hours and would provide everything he needed for the meeting. “I’ll go, and I’ll bleed whatever I can out of her for being so rude.”